


Sky painters

by Hyfriancarousel



Category: Red Shoes and the 7 Dwarfs (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clouds, Colors, Constellations, Conversations, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Night, Painting, Pastels, Romance, Sparkles, Stars, Swing Set, Work, ladder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyfriancarousel/pseuds/Hyfriancarousel
Summary: The sky changes color through the hours of the day. This is achieved through the work of sky painters, who make sure that the sky is always as beautiful as it should be. There were only two that Hans knew of, and he was going to talk to the other.
Relationships: Hans/Jack
Kudos: 9





	Sky painters

Stars. Twinkles outside the reach of clouds, beads of shimmering white against a dark blue. With his silver-lined swing, he traveled across the sky. His palette sparkling with hues of midnight. Jack, the painter of the sky. He created the stars.

He wasn’t the only one.

Hans handled the rich clouds of plum and maroon, conducting them to float with the setting sun. Unlike Jack, who descended from the clouds with his swing, Hans used a ladder that reached the ends of the cosmos.

Hans carried pails of paint while Jack used a palette, Jack's clothing was gothic in style while Hans wore dungarees. Even their brushes were different.

Hans painted the sky like one would paint a gigantic wall. He even used a wall brush. Swift yet long strokes, with the intention less on detail and more on the coloring of the whole canvas.

Jack’s brush was smaller, focused on smaller details. Every star he did had its own flair, its own look.

Far from each other, working at different times.

Hans had never seen Jack up close. He saw the stars. He could spot Jack when he was climbing back to earth.

But he had never said hi.

Sometimes you work with people you never speak with, but being a sky painter was a rare profession. He didn’t have colleagues to talk to.

Except Jack.

Well, better late than never. He had stewed in his emotions long enough. To Hans, talking to Jack wasn’t just a wish, it was a must. Why not be optimistic? It was time to put his ladder to good use.

With determined steps, he gripped the sides of his ladder, drawing closer to the sky. With each bar, he saw Jack closer. Sky painter at work, concentrating on his craft. His hands detailing a star with a silver flourish, making it glimmer. 

Hans gripped on the ladder as he picked up speed. He spent a good while climbing on most days, but he couldn’t keep at it for the entire night.

Closer and closer. The white sleeves of Jack’s blouse, patterned purple. Hans huffed, catching his breath from the climb.

“... Hi,” he said.

Jack’s eyes widened. His pose froze with the palette and brush still raised, gaze turning to Hans. Surprised. Hans let his head droop, as he still needed to get more air into his lungs. Returning to the blue pools of midnight was surprising. Jack looked more neutral. 

“Hello,” he answered, eyes questioning.

Hans shuddered. Nervousness. How do you greet someone new? People had different tactics. Hans was outgoing, but he was meeting someone he was interested in and looked up to, literally. Jack’s stars were one of the most wonderful works of art he had ever seen.

“Lovely stars as always, Jack,” Hans said.

Jack’s bewilderment turned into happiness as he acknowledged him with a smile. A flutter. If only Hans had a swing. He wished to fly. Jack placed his equipment down on the swing. He put his hands on his knees.

“Uh…” Hans looked at his buckets of paint, gazing at them before turning to Jack. “... Need white paint?”

Could he use them? Sky paint was compatible with any time of day, right? Jack raised his fingers without lifting his palms.

“Oh, well...”

He glanced at his palette and gazed around his swing. He was out. Hans nodded.

“Give me a second.”

He put his feet on the side of the ladder instead of on the bars. Similar to lighting, he slid down the ladder in a flash. Jack sat on his swing, looking around the unfinished starry sky. Hans returned, face red from the climb.

“Here... Here you… go.” He said.

Hans took a hold of the pail from its metal bail handle, handing it to Jack. He accepted it, still smiling.

“Thank you.”

The stars twinkled around them, brilliant in their glow. Of course, still unfinished. A finger tapped on the ladder as Hans thought of how to keep the conversation flowing.

“Were you... painting anything specific?” He asked.

Being short of breath wasn’t unusual when you climb a ladder to work every day, but he was pushing his limits tonight.

“A constellation,” Jack answered with a grin, “Big Dipper specifically. Only two stars, Mizar and Alcor, are missing.”

He faced Hans.

“Would you like to...help me finish it?”

Hans lifted his brush from his back pocket and pointed it at Jack.

“Using me to do your job, are you?”

Jack chuckled, growing it into a laugh.

“Perhaps I am.” He shifted his position, placing his leg over the other. “Who better than the only other sky painter I know?”

Hans tried to hide his face from the sudden smile being put on it.  
Jack leaned closer.

“I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time, Hans,” He said.

Hans faced Jack, hand lifting off in shock. Well, it made sense. He knew Jack’s name, so Jack knowing his wasn’t a miracle. But when you think you’re not even acknowledged by someone you want to talk to, it catches one off guard. Artists understand each other even though style, aesthetics and even their craft differ.

“Me too, Jack,” he whispered, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

Jack placed his hand on his chest. His smile turned into a smirk.

“Oh, my friend, you won’t regret it.”

He grabbed onto Hans’s arm, turning his brush to the sky. Hans followed him. Two stars together, different but close. Still as lustrous, as radiant as ever. Fitting together like two pieces of the same puzzle. Painting together, as one, yet in their own way.


End file.
